Sirius Black and the Curtain (And Other Odd One-Shots)
by A-Sluggish-Memory
Summary: A collection of some of the most unusual, untold and unimaginable relationships that you probably haven't even dreamed of. It's literally a crack shipper's heaven. Starts with the ship which started it all- Sirius Black/Curtain. You'll never know, if you never try. WARNINGS LISTED IN CHAPTER 1
1. Sirius Black and the Curtain

**The start of a collection of some of the most unusual relationships the Harry Potter series has ever seen.**

**This collection may contain adult scenes and situations, coarse language, highly disturbing images, anthropomorphic leading characters, slash, femslash, smut and everything in between. **

**They range from short drabbles to extended one-shots. No multi chaptered ships.**

**So let's start it off with a ship I like to call 'Curious'.**

**Read at your own risk.**

* * *

Sirius Black knocked on the door with a sense of nervousness about him. Never before had he been this nervous about a date. Sure, he was a bit of ladies man, but this was different. This special someone had been eyeing him for years. They could be his future partner. They could be the one.

Moments passed and the door opened.

There stood one of the most beautiful curtains Sirius had ever seen. It slinked towards him and wrapped its lavender tail of velvet around his waist, pulling him into its home. Sirius gave the curtain a quick peck on the cheek which soon turned into a pash.

"Vvvvvvvvvvvvv." The curtain moaned, as it tickled Sirius' ear.

Finally, when the pair could take it no more, the curtain pulled off Sirius' clothes and made love to him… somehow.

* * *

It was the eve of their wedding and Sirius Black and the curtain were excited, yet nervous, about their upcoming nuptials.

"Akflnsdjfisdngindfs." The curtain vvv'd seductively, as it toyed with Sirius' third nipple.

"Not tonight babe." He replied, throwing the curtain into the ceiling fan.

As the curtain spun out the window and into the garden, Sirius thought long and hard about tomorrow's events.

"The curtain can satisfy me sexually… but do I love it? I do feel ever so aroused when it is around…"

The curtain shimmied through the window and presented its genitals to Sirius.

"I AM ERECT." It screeched, before Sirius gave in and used it as a slutty turban.

* * *

As Sirius Black stood at the end of Grimmauld Place's makeshift wedding aisle, next to his best men Harry and Remus, the curtain sexily made its way towards him. It was being given away by its father, a bathrobe. Its maid of honour was a bathmat. A naked one in fact.

What a slut.

Just that night, Fred and George even had a threesome with the bathmat.

A small tufty haired wizard proceeded over the ceremonies. Once it came to anyone objecting, the whole crowd, which was mainly pieces of string, gasped.

"I object!" Sirius cried, much to the horror of the curtain.

"I can't marry you, the curtain. I love Remus…"

* * *

After the breakdown of the once happy couple, the curtain developed a drinking problem, and even tried hanging itself a few times. Eventually, it became insanely possessive of Sirius, and dreamed of stealing him away forever.

After making the sweet act of love with Voldemort, it convinced him to plant an image in Harry Potter's mind of Sirius' torture, this leading Harry to his rescue, which would soon lead Sirius to rescue Harry. Then, one night, it cheekily twisted itself into Mafalda Hopkirk's bag and made it into the ministry. After taking a spot on an empty archway in the Department of Mysteries, it wasn't long before Sirius came to Harry's aid.

Then, in the midst of all the fighting, just as Bellatrix's curse hit the archway, the curtain opened up its vagina and engulfed Sirius into nothingness.

Together forever.

_Fin_


	2. More Than Butterbeer- Fleur x Winky

**Fleur Delacour/Winky**_  
_

* * *

_Name: Fleur Isabelle Delacour_

_Date: 30th June__ 1995_

_Class: Eissurly's English Extension: Learning English as a Second Language_

_Task: Write a recount, __in English, __of an event from the past year._

Something More Than Butterbeer

My body froze up the moment I stepped out of the carriage. The wind was cruel, and the snow was heavy, and I was just about ready to go back inside. Unfortunately for my sake, my own curiosity got the better of me and I had to endure the cold. I just hadn't realized how harsh the British winter really was. I thought they had it easy!

Any desire to return to the comfort of my bed was halted by that same sound that woke me minutes earlier. It had been going on for far too long. No one else seemed to be bothered by it, but my attempts to fall back asleep were futile. I was tired, I was angry, and I wanted to know what was keeping me awake! That is why I ended up standing in the snow in my delicate silk pajamas, clothes that were definitely not designed for that kind of weather.

Nonetheless, I didn't want to risk waking everyone up just to find my coat, so I continued to follow the sound. My mind boggled at what it could be. The sounds I heard were not quite human, but I couldn't put my finger on what, or who, they belonged to.

Then, another clue to what I would be facing; a discarded bottle of 'butterbeer' that had been spilt across the grass to drip downhill into the forest. I knew it probably was not the smartest idea to enter the forest that late at night, but I had already come this far. Well, that was my reasoning behind it. Luckily for me, what I found wasn't scary, nor was it dangerous.

On the other side of the tree where the butterbeer had dripped, I found a small house elf attempting to suck the liquid out of the grass. _Disgusting_, I thought at first. I could not for the life of me figure out why anyone would do stoop that low. Then as the elf looked up at me, startled that she had been caught, I saw the sadness in her huge saucer-like eyes. I saw the regret, the frustration, and the fear, just spiraling inside of her. I had no real clue to what was going on in this elf's life, but I felt bad for judging her so quickly. With this in mind, I knelt down, decided to pick her up off the ground and wiped her mouth with my sleeve. I admit, I was still a little disgusted, but I didn't let that show.

She told me her name was Winky. When I asked her who she belonged too, she started bawling her eyes out and my heart broke.

That really pushed me over the edge.

The thought of someone abandoning this poor defenseless house elf just made me incredibly mad. I could tell she felt like no one would love her again, like the world had given up on her, so I had to do something to make her feel better.

Still crying, I clutched Winky around her torso and pulled her close for a tight embrace. I tried to tell her that it was okay, but that seemed to make it worse, and she cried even harder.

This is when I decided to kiss her.

I started off with a light peck on her tiny forehead, which seemed to slow her wailing. Then, as I rocked her gently, I kissed her cheek, and the crying was reduced to occasional sobs. _It's now or never_, I thought. Then I pressed my lips to hers. She didn't seem at all afraid, or startled, and even reciprocated the kiss.

At first I found it a little odd that I was kissing an elf, but that feeling soon past. The kiss was surprisingly warm, and comforting. It felt totally right, and not weird at all. I had never encountered so much passion in a female before, let alone an elf. It really made me think of the legitimacy of my past relationships. All had been young, handsome men. Though as I kissed Winky, I felt something new and exciting, something I had never experienced before.

I _love_ that house elf.

I just hope Winky knows that too.

_OoOoO_

_Comments: Dear, I am not quite sure you got the concept of this task! Maybe, Miss Delacour, if you would just get on with your work, rather than charming the rest of your classmates, you would have done better. Your English is very good, and I think you have learned a lot in the month you've been taking this course, but you really missed the mark on this one. I clearly stated that this was to be a recount, not a story! Instead, you give me this strange, and somewhat disturbing, tale of you and a house elf? It's ridiculous! For the sake of your fellow classmates, and frankly, your own sanity, I think it is best that you leave this course. Perhaps Gringotts has an opening for an intern?_

_Thanks,_

_Mrs Grisselda Eissurly_

* * *

Fleur was very disappointed by this comment. Not only had she been kicked out of one of the best community colleges in London, but she had been ridiculed for her _very true _experience with a very special house elf.

* * *

**Written for 'The Harry Potter Femmeslash Project Challenge', 'The Diagon Alley Challenge' (Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour) and 'The Wand Wood Challenge' (Elder).**

**Also written for the '52 Weeks of Writing 2013 Competition'.**

**Prompts used:****'Mr/Miss -, if you would just get on with your work', tired, spiraling, sad.**

**Optional prompts used:****'Curiousity Killed the Cat'**


	3. Ministry Affairs- Percy x Lift Voice

**Percy Weasley/Ministry of Magic Lift Voice**

* * *

Percy Weasley wasn't one to enjoy a party.

In fact, he would much rather process paperwork than attend the Ministry's annual New Year's Eve celebrations.

Which is exactly what he did.

As Percy replied to some overdue letters, a party raged on downstairs in the atrium. It was the one tradition during Cornelius Fudge's time as Minister which the employees were perfectly content with. Rufus Scrimgeour, on the other hand, had a no-nonsense attitude towards any party, festivity or gala. He even had an intern put on probation for bringing in a cake to celebrate his very own birthday. Gawain Robards, the Head of the Auror Office and a close friend of Scrimgeour, had to set Scrimgeour up on a false meeting, just so the party could be arranged. It is quite lucky that Scrimgeour never saw the party in its peak, as he would probably be most disgusted and upset about what he saw.

Unfortunately for Percy, the constant commotion and distractions forced him to leave his office and return to his London apartment. He had been renting the apartment ever since moving out of his family home, a place he would not dare return to anytime soon. Just the other day, on Christmas morning, Scrimgeour used Percy's family connections to visit Harry Potter, who was staying with his family. It didn't go too well, and Percy left with mashed parsnips smashed against his face. That wasn't at all a surprise for Percy. Ever since the row he had with his Father and the rest of his family, Percy had avoided them at all costs. He didn't even acknowledge Arthur if he passed by at work. Percy was still angry with his family and he hated staying up just thinking about it. So, at 11pm, he fell asleep to the sound of the rain on his window, and didn't even bother staying up to ring in the New Year. He woke up to the sound of thunder early the next morning and decided to make himself a bowl of plain porridge, rather than attempt to fall back asleep. As the clock hit 4am, he decided to head to the Ministry early to finish last night's work.

_What a great way to spend New Year's Day_, Percy thought to himself.

Upon entering the ministry, Percy tried his best to ignore the vast amount of mess littering the atrium floor, and marched straight towards the lifts. As he passed through, he spied numerous deflated balloons, a smashed punch bowl and a number of witches and wizards asleep on the floor around him.

"Did you hear about that party?" An elderly wizard slurred, as Percy got into the lift.

Percy ignored him.

"I wouldn't get in there if I were you." The wizard told Percy, as he let out a burp.

Percy ignored him once again and pressed the button for his office. He had no time to deal with drunk Ministry workers.

The lift wobbled slightly and the doors closed. He made it only a few metres into the air when…

SMASH!

Percy fell to the floor as the lift swang into the adjacent wall. As a soft beeping sound began and a red light flashed from the ceiling, Percy heard the wizard below call out to him.

"I told ya! You should not have entered that lift!"

Percy crawled over to the lift grilles and peered into the atrium below. "What's wrong with it?" Percy inquired nervously.

"Perkins spilt some punch into the control box last night. Merlin's beard, he was drunk!" The elderly wizard manically laughed to himself as he walked away.

"Wait!" Percy screamed after the man. "How are we going to resolve my problem?"

The wizard let out another shriek of laughter. "_We?" _He then proceeded to wobble away out of site, leaving Percy alone and stuck.

Percy sighed and pulled himself up. In a state of panic, he began pushing all of the buttons in succession.

"Stop that!" A female voice bellowed at him.

Percy grasped his wand and yanked it out of the pocket. "Who's there?" He asked, pointing it around the lift.

The voice giggled. "Settle down, Weasley."

"What—how do you know my name?"

"One hears a lot in the lift."

"Who _are _you? Your voice sounds familiar…"

"Does it now?" The voice replied, sounding mildly impressed. "Maybe this will help… Level One, Minister for Magic and Support Staff." The voice announced sweetly.

"But—are you not just a voice built into the lift?"

"Ha! Typical men. Most of the wizards in this place hardly acknowledge me at all. Trust them to think I'm a mere automatic system of sorts. I am much more than that. Thankfully many of the Ministry's _witches _are much more kind. We have conversations, exchange greetings… they actually know my name!"

Percy's eyes widened. "A name? You actually have a name?"

If the Lift Voice could spit, she would have at that moment. "Of course I have a name!" The voice raged. "It's Daisy."

"Alright… Daisy." Percy reacted sceptically. "Are the other lifts so full of…character?"

"Of course not!" The voice scoffed. "I'm the only one. Years ago when they first installed the lifts, a wizard named Wimple attempted a charm on me in order to bring me to life. It worked, I guess."

"I see."

An awkward silence followed for a good few minutes before Percy spoke up again.

"I suppose you want to hear my story then." Percy suggested to the Lift Voice.

"_Your _story? I already know your story, Percy Weasley. After Outstanding results in all of your N.E.W.T. subjects at Hogwarts, you easily found your way into the Ministry of Magic's Department of International Magical Cooperation. Your potential was noticed by many of the Ministry's staff and numerous promotions saw you rise to the position of Junior Assistant under the Minister. See, it was your strong work ethic and disregard for your own family which saw—"

"Wait a moment. My disregard for my own family?" Percy quizzed the Voice.

"Oh I know all about that too. I know that you became preoccupied with your work, leaving little time to spend with your loved ones. I know that you and your father couldn't see eye to eye on some important issues. I know that you moved out of home just to get away from your own family. I know about the fights, Percy. I know about the riffs and rows, the arguments and attitudes. Word travels fast in the Ministry. It only takes one slip of the tongue for this kind of information to get out there. Your father's not exactly private about this stuff. Well, not when he's in the lift he isn't." The voice let out a small chuckle. "I also see your face after your father enters the lift, or when you pass him as you get out. I know that look. It's a look of frustration. You hate that your family can't see your point of view. You want them to understand, but they don't."

Percy slumped down onto the floor and mulled over what the lift voice had just said to him. He just had the past few years of his life summarised for him, and it was rather confronting.

"You're right." Percy sighed. "They don't understand me. No matter how much I try to change their minds, they're still convinced that the Ministry is out to get them. It's Dumbledore that's the problem! Why can't they see that? I am only trying to look out for them. They don't understand me." Percy repeated. "But you do." He looked up to the ceiling of the lift, as if he was facing the Voice. "How is it that you understand me so well?"

The voice blushed. Well, not exactly, she was merely a voice. But she did blush, somehow. "I just tend to understand people well. Sometimes even better than they understand themselves."

Percy got up and smiled at the ceiling. He pressed his hand against the wall and rubbed it softly. There was some strange connection between him and this sweet Lift Voice, a connection he never thought he would have. Not even Penelope, his ex-girlfriend, made him feel the way this Lift Voice did. There was something about her voice, which was sweet, yet reassuring, that Percy found so beautiful. Percy only wished he could hold her like he could with a real witch.

"I've been watching you for a long time, Percy."

Now Percy was the one who was blushing. _Actually _blushing.

"You've always seemed to catch my eye. It's a wonder that a handsome young man like yourself isn't already in a relationship."

Percy's cheeks looked like they were on fire at this point.

"Then again, I guess work is your priority." Laughed the lift voice.

_That's not true_, thought Percy. _I occasionally enjoy things other than work. _Percy had actually bought a year long museum pass to use in the New Year. "Well, this year I'm going to…"

"Hush, Percy. Take me now."

Shivers went up Percy's spine and he began shifting uncomfortably in his work pants.

"Forget about work, just this once. You need this Percy." The Lift Voice convinced him.

Percy attempted to think long and hard about what he was about to do, but something else long and hard did the thinking for him. Loosening his tie slightly, Percy hauled off his jacket and threw it to the floor in a heap. He stared at the jacket for a few moments before picking it up and neatly folding it.

Not everything about Percy had changed.

But something had changed. Percy had some urges he had pushed to the back of his mind for years. Years of prioritising work over everything else had left Percy with no excitement in his life. Not once had he swam naked, or left a pub without paying (not that he had time to visit any pubs), or hooked up with a random girl.

This was about to change.

Percy pressed his body against the lift walls and began kissing the buttons gently.

"Percy, what are you do—ahhhhhh." The Lift Voice had never been treated in such a manner. She had always dreamed of Percy caressing her, but she never thought it would actually happen.

Then, one by one, he pushed each of the buttons, much to the delight of the lift voice. Sweat began dripping down Percy's forehead as he undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.

"Oh Percy!" The lift voice screamed, at the sight of Percy's bare chest. Which, to be honest, wasn't much to look at. It was covered with red hair and acne, so an ordinary girl wouldn't be so impressed with it. But the lift voice wasn't really a girl, so it was okay.

"Are you ready?" Percy asked the voice.

The voice groaned an almost inaudible yes, which Percy took as an answer.

He then took a deep breath and raised his finger towards the large red emergency button on the wall of lift.

"Do it." The lift voice urged.

And he did it.

The voice let out a scream of pleasure as the entire lift began shaking.

"Yes, yes, yes…" Percy muttered to himself, ignoring the movement of the lift.

"PERCY!" The voice moaned, as oil dripped from the ceiling.

As Percy and the lift voice pleasured each other, neither noticed the lift moving towards the ground level again. Well, not until a wizard standing near the door cleared his throat.

Percy released his grip on the emergency button and craned his head towards the door. Standing there was the wizard who warned Percy about the lift, along with a maintenance wizard and an elderly cleaning witch, who soon collapsed in shock.

"Ah." Percy said. "You returned for me."

"I was only joking, you know? I wasn't going to leave you." The man's eyes were drawn to the enlargement in Percy's pants. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Nothing!" Percy spat back, covering his crotch with his hands. "I was just trying to…fix the lift." He explained, quickly glancing at the lift's ceiling. "Now if you don't mind, I have work to finish."

And with that, Percy picked up his tie and jacket and marched into the atrium, giving the lift a cheeky wink on the way out.

"Now _that_ was fun."

* * *

**Written for the '52 Weeks of Writing 2013 Competition'.**

**Prompts used: New Year, Drunk, Resolve.**

**Optional prompts used: ****Thunder, Rain, Party, Fire, 'Well, this year I'm going to...', Wand.**

**Bonus prompt used: ****'Did you hear about that party?'**


	4. A Flobberworm's Diary- Worm x Crabbe

**Flobberworm/Vincent Crabbe**

* * *

**Day 1- September 6****th**** 1993**

The large man with the beard is back again. He's still sad.

As he looks into our box he throws in some lettuce. Unfortunately for us, his tears are like giant drops of rain.

Now I'm wet.

The others tell me that he didn't always dispense fluids so quickly, though I find it hard to imagine this giant doing anything but crying. They also tell me about everything I need to know about this world. My parents passed the information onto them, and they passed it onto me. I guess I'll have to pass it on to some others at some point.

The hours pass and the box continues to get more crowded, as my mother continues to give birth. My brothers and sisters are arriving by the minute! Despite this, I have my own comfortable spot in one of the corners. I want to live with my Mum and Dad, but I don't see them too much. I guess they're a bit preoccupied with everyone else.

There are rumours around the box that we'll be getting visitors soon. I'm not exactly sure how I feel about this, but I guess it could be exciting. I might even make a friend.

Tonight I sleep by myself.

I am feeling awfully lonely.

* * *

**Day 4- September 9****th **

The rumour was true. Today we are visited by an assortment of strange figures. They are a lot smaller than the bearded man, and a lot less teary. They also give us a lot more lettuce than we are used to. Some of my brothers and sisters are over-indulging, but I hold back. I'm trying to watch my figure.

One of the figures in particular catches my eye. Out of all of them, he's probably the closest in size to the bearded man, which comforts me slightly (The bearded man is sad, but very caring). His body his extremely large, and he looks very strong. I like that in a man. He also has the thickest of necks. I'm not too sure why I like that, but I do. I swear I've seen him craning that beautiful neck my way.

When he leaves, I ask one of my brothers if he thinks I have a chance with him.

He tells me I have a better chance with a dragon, than with him.

I take that as a no.

* * *

**Day 16- September 21****st **

Not a day goes by where I don't think about the mysterious large figure. So strong, so masculine… he's all you would look for in a potential mate! He's actually perfect.

My sisters disagree.

Not that I care, though. That just means I don't have to fight anyone to get him.

Wow, listen to me… I'm becoming so greedy! I know I shouldn't just 'claim him' like that, but we have a connection that none of the other worms have. I just wish I could see a little more of him.

He occasionally visits me, of course, but I don't think he notices me much. I assume he's playing hard to get. He does feed me lettuce though (not that I eat much of it), so I know he's keen on me. Honestly though, why would I eat all that lettuce anyway? I'm going to have to keep slim to keep his interest in me high.

* * *

**Day 29- October 4****th**

It's not getting much better around here. My parents and many of my siblings have died, and it's beginning to smell. The bearded man isn't even bothering to clear the my dead family members out of the box. The surviving worms decided to create a makeshift cemetery in the corner I once called home.

I'm homeless now.

I did visit the graves of my Mum and Dad the other day and paid my respects. I was sad, like the bearded man, but I was also a little angry since their bodies now occupied by former home.

My attempts to interact with my future husband have been futile. I am beginning to think he doesn't like me, which is bad, because my feelings for him continue to grow stronger. I just wish we could be together. The thought of us not sharing a life makes me upset.

In better news, the brother that said I would have a better chance with a dragon than _Mr Thick Neck_, died yesterday.

That made me happy.

Sorry Bill.

* * *

**Day 37- October 12****th**

I finally got to kiss you-know-who! He was so firm, and so hairy, that I nearly fainted. It was wonderful. Unfortunately, he misconstrued it as an attempt on my part to bite him. He didn't seem at all happy.

Nevertheless, I will take it as a step forward in our relationship, and I hope we will reach second base soon.

Apart from that blissful incident, it has been rather morbid around here. More of my siblings have died, and the bearded man still refuses to remove them from the box. At first it didn't really bother me, but living in a world of death has really taken its toll on me.

We had our first suicide the other day. Poor sister Debbie couldn't handle sleeping with her deceased family members, and she finally cracked. Luckily I was asleep when it happened, so I was spared the details.

Thankfully I have someone to keep me focused and positive.

* * *

**Day 54- October 29****th**

He hardly comes round anymore. I can hear his voice, but he never comes over. I can't stand not seeing him. I thought we shared something special, I really did. I'm such a fool for actually thinking he'd visit me.

I've been eating an awful lot of lettuce lately, as I really don't care about my own body anymore. I know I shouldn't, but it's comfort food, you know? It's all I have now I can't see him.

Maybe I jumped into the kiss too early? We only knew each other for just over a month. Nobody said it was easy, I just assumed I would be able to make it work.

I guess not.

All this lettuce is making me feel really ill. I really should lie down.

I just really hope he visits soon.

I miss him.

I just need to see him one more time.

* * *

Carefully avoiding detection, Vincent Crabbe made his way to Hagrid's Hut and knocked on the door firmly.

"Who's there?" Hagrid bellowed.

"Err—it's Crabbe."

The door swang open to reveal a very puzzled Hagrid. "Crabbe? What do yer want?" Clearly Hagrid never played with the idea that Vincent Crabbe would come visit him. And why would he?

"I, um, was just wondering, if the, um—"

"Spit it out boy!"

"If, um, I could see the Flobberworms?" Crabbe grunted.

"Yer want to see the Flobberworms?"

Crabbe nodded embarrassingly.

"Well ya can't!"

"But I just thought that—"

"You can't," Hagrid continued. "Because they're all dead! We've been givin' them too much lettuce."

Crabbe's heart sank. "Dead? They're _all _dead? Are you sure?"

"Yes, all of them. Now get back to the castle or yer gonna' be caught!"

Crabbe let out a distressed sigh and turned back towards the castle.

He had been looking forward to seeing that Flobberworm again.

Just one more time.

* * *

**Written for: The Diagon Alley Competition **_**(**__**Madam Pimpernelle's Beautifying Potions)**_**, and The Honeydukes Competition **_**(Sugar Quills).**_

**Also written for the '52 Weeks of Writing 2013 Competition'.**

**Prompts used: ****CoMC, Greed.**

**Optional prompts used: ****Dragon, birth, grave.**


	5. Saliva and Skin- Petunia Dursley x Fang

**Petunia Dursley/Fang**

* * *

This was the first time Petunia Durlsey had ever stepped foot in Godric's Hollow. Apart from the odd Christmas present or obligatory birthday card, Petunia never had a need to visit or contact her younger sister and her new family. For fifteen years, Petunia battled with the decision to visit Lily's grave, to pay her last respects, but every time she wanted to go, she couldn't hold back the resentment she still felt against Lily, and continuously decided against it. So during the autumn of 1996, it was quite a shock for Vernon to see Petunia leave in the middle of the evening to find her sister's grave.

Using directions she had received from Dumbledore years ago, she reached the gates of the village graveyard. Before she stepped inside, Petunia hugged her fur coat tightly, took a deep breath in and closed her eyes for a moment. Then, almost suddenly, she pushed open the gate and began following the rows of graves in search of her sister.

_Abbott, Williams, Peverell._

Petunia skimmed her eyes over a few more of the graves before her she caught sign of what she was longing for. There, right in front of her, was the grave of her deceased little sister.

"Lily." She whimpered to herself. Petunia pursed her lips in order to hide the raw emotion she was feeling but was finding it increasingly difficult. Not once had Petunia displayed any sadness over her sister's death. Their falling out during their childhood had affected Petunia so much that she lost all love for her. "Lily." She repeated. "I am _so _sorry." _Almost_ all love. "Lily, I miss you so much. I miss our childhood, how we did everything together." Petunia was now tearing up, and her quiet whispers were becoming audible wails. "And though I still find it hard to understand that you were always the favourite… I know it wasn't your fault. It wasn't you, Lily. You're—you're not… a freak." Petunia broke down before her sister's grave. All of the emotions she had slowly bottled up over the years had finally burst out of her. Now on her hands and knees, Petunia sobbed for her little sister, unsuccessfully trying to compose herself in this situation. Petunia herself had no idea that her feelings for Lily were this strong. It had certainly taken her aback quite a bit.

Then, a wet splash across her cheek.

Someone, or something, had licked Petunia's cheek. This caused her to jump back for a moment, before she could appreciate the beauty of what stood in front of her.

There before her, was one of the largest dogs she had ever seen. The first thing to catch Petunia's eye was the rolls of skin which ceremoniously fell down its face. Never before had she seen so much skin in one place. What made the picture perfect for Petunia was the shining saliva which rhythmically dripped from the dog's mouth to the ground.

The dog licked Petunia's face once more.

She blushed.

And in the moment of lonely sadness, she wrapped her arms tightly around the animal and rubbed the dog gently. This moment, more than ever, was a time where Petunia needed someone to hold, someone to comfort her.

Even if that someone was a large dog.

The animal let off a low growl and proceeded to lick Petunia's neck, his hind leg kicking in excitement. Petunia opened her nostrils wide and let the scent of this stray beast fill her body.

Shivers went down her spine.

The couple continued in this sweet embrace until—

"FANG!" Somebody roared. "Where are you?"

The pair broke their moment of warmth and looked into each other's eyes for a second. This was followed by a kiss on the nose by Petunia, who ran behind a nearby tree to hide.

"There yeh are yeh great blubbering beast!" The man shouted. "Ah, yeh found it on yeh own!"

The connection Petunia had with Fang was stronger than anything she shared with Vernon. There was something about the dog's sagging skin and excess fluids which got Petunia's blood pumping. She knew in her heart that she would never see this dog again, but she treasured the moment they shared. After all, this dog was there to help Petunia grieve over her sister's death. Something Vernon could never be there for.

And just as the familiar man paid his respects to the very same person Petunia had, Petunia whispered a simple "Farewell."

* * *

**Written for Glowing Neon's**_**'**__**The Slightly Odd CrackShip Challenge**__**' **_**in which I was given the very odd pairing of Petunia Dursley/Fang. **


	6. Burning Sensation- Pomfrey x Dobby

**Madam Pomfrey/Dobby**

* * *

Madam Pomfrey woke up with a start. The migraine which had forced her to an early slumber had become so painful that she could no longer keep her eyes closed. An intense burning sensation was now the only thing between her and a comfortable night's sleep. Pomfrey hobbled out of bed; her vision blurred without her glasses, and felt around for the appropriate medicine. Upon locating the acid green bottle, she accidentally knocked it off the shelf for it to smash on the ground.

"Poppy cock!" she whispered to herself, as she stared down at the last pain relief formula in the hospital wing. They weren't due for new stock until tomorrow, so Madam Pomfrey was forced to sit in her bedroom and endure the pain.

Madam Pomfrey's bedroom was adjacent to the hospital wing so she could look after patients 24/7. Her bedroom also doubled as her office, and her kitchen, and her parlour, and any other room a person needs to live comfortably. In fact, apart from meal times or special emergencies, Madam Pomfrey rarely left her room. She didn't even go home for the holidays.

She also rarely attached herself emotionally to her patients, but was very dedicated to getting them better. If she was unable to help a student, she would usually get upset and end up calling St Mungo's. That would hardly ever happen though, as Madam Pomfrey was excellent at her job.

_Just a couple more hours until sunrise, _Pomfrey thought to herself hopefully. The closer the day came, the closer the delivery of medicine would be.

_CLANG!_

Pomfrey's train of thought was interrupted as she heard loud noises coming from the hospital wing. If there was one thing she hated more than students refusing medicine, it was students who refused to sleep. On countless occasions she had to tell some bratty first years to go to sleep after they woke up and decided to play exploding snap.

_Idiots._

Forgetting her pain momentarily, Madam Pomfrey grabbed her dressing gown from out of her wardrobe, and wrapped it tight around her body.

_CLANG!_

More noise sounded out and Pomfrey became increasingly aggravated. As she was about to burst through the hospital wing door in anger, she saw a strange figure through the crack.

It was a house elf.

At the end of Harry Potter's bed.

There was a house elf at the end of Harry Potter's bed.

Madam Pomfrey peered carefully through the crack again, just to check she wasn't seeing things.

_Big eyes, big ears, tiny body. Yes, that's definitely a house elf._

She rubbed her eyes in disbelief and looked back to see that the house elf had vanished.

_Maybe I did imagine it?_

Harry Potter was asleep once more, the noises had stopped, and there was no sign of any house elf, so Madam Pomfrey decided to return to her bedroom.

Lying down on her bed, Pomfrey attempted to ignore her migraine and decided to close her eyes.

_There she was, back in the hospital wing. The house elf was staring at her with his huge beautiful eyes, causing her to swoon unceremoniously. She stepped forward nervously and caressed his cheek gently._

"_Now I know what a house elf feels like."_

_Pomfrey tickled his ears softly which caused them to twitch slightly. She then__ knelt down so her enormous breasts were level with the house elf and pushed his tiny head into the middle of them. Just as she released the elf from her waterfall of boobage, she leaned in for a kiss and…_

"Ah!" Pomfrey screamed, as she was jolted back into reality.

She had no idea why she had romantic thoughts about a mysterious house elf. She tried to tell herself she didn't find him attractive, and that she didn't feel like she loved him, and she even tried to blame it on the migraine.

Unfortunately, one can't just lie to themselves.

Madam Pomfrey must not tell lies.

* * *

**Written for the '52 Weeks of Writing 2013 Competition'.**

**Prompts used: Swoon, blurred.**

**Optional prompts used:****Migraine, burning.**

**Bonus prompt used:****'Now I know what a house elf feels like."**


	7. Cold Love- Dementor x Dudley Dursley

**Dementor/Dudley Dursley**

* * *

The lady in pink showed Richard and I the black and white pictures of our targets.. I noticed that one was very large, and the other rather skinny. It was the large one that caught my eye, so I told Richard he could have the skinny one.

Little did the lady in pink know, we weren't hunting tonight, we were dating.

The large one's face was perfectly plump, and his belly was rotund in all the right places. He had the thickest of calves, and his chubby hands were clutching a very large piece of chocolate cake.

This made him very happy.

In fact, he was one of the most cheerful souls I had ever seen.

So much life.

So much energy.

So much happiness.

I think it was his happiness that attracted me to him the most, and I just couldn't wait to meet him.

By 8pm, Richard and I were ready to go, and we begin our journey to Little Whinging in search for the young men in the pictures.

As we passed a field of flowers, I thought it would be kind if I picked a poesy for him, just to make a good impression. Unfortunately, as I extended my hand over the flowers, they froze up and wilted, leaving me with nothing but a pile of dead love. Sometimes it's hard being me.

I didn't let this discourage me though, as I knew he would like me, poesy or not.

As we reached the town, the rain began coming down hard and the wind was harsh and cold, so I knew the young men would be undercover.

Alas, it was Richard, and not I, who spotted them ducking for cover in an empty tunnel.

_This was it_, I told myself. I would finally get to see the large 'target' in person.

"Now Douglas," Richard told me, "I will let you go in first. Just stay away from the skinny one."

I let out a rather girlish giggle. "Of course Richard! You know who I'm after."

I swooped down towards the tunnel and raced towards the young man of my dreams. I found he was even more beautiful in person. You could actually see his rolls of fat rippling in fear. What a sight it was.

Usually I don't just rush into things, but I just couldn't wait this time.

As soon as I was close enough, I leant in for a kiss and I believe, took his breath away.

Though there was something wrong. He didn't seem happy, he seemed scared. It was like he didn't even notice how beautiful I was. Blood even began trickling out of his ear, which is never a good sign. Was there something wrong with me?

Before I could contemplate this, a blinding flash came hurtling towards me, and I was pushed back into the sky.

I hate it when that happens.

It's always so much easier to find dates in Azkaban.

In fact, I kind of miss Sirius Black. He was never this difficult. He just lay there and I did my thing.

Richard and I had failed our task, so I returned home in disgrace.

"Why didn't he like me?" I asked myself, as I floated in front of my mirror. If I could have shed a tear, I would of.

Dementors are always associated with depression and tragedy, stealers of happiness, but that's not true! We're only looking for happiness so we can be happy too. We just want someone to love us, and to hold us, someone to kiss us all night.

I looked into the mirror again and took off my robe.

I realised how hideous I was.

My bones were grimy, and my joints were scratched. Don't even get me started on how big I was.

I wish people could just see me for me, rather than judge me on my appearance.

But unfortunately, I know I will never be seen as anything other than a frightening creature of the dark.

I know that no one will ever see my true beauty.

And I know I will never be loved.

* * *

**Written for the '52 Weeks of Writing 2013 Competition'.**

**Prompts used: Cold, rain, tragedy.**

**Optional prompts used:****Depression.**

**Bonus prompt used:****Blood.**


	8. I Remember- Whomping Willow x Black Lake

**The Whomping Willow/The Black Lake**

* * *

I remember growing up peacefully on the bank of a vast lake. The water was as black as night, but it remained calm and gentle. Anything dangerous was concealed by a cloak of darkness, so I was under the illusion that the water was perfectly safe. I was to learn later that this was not the case, but I didn't let this distort my perception on the lake. All day, every day, I would just watch the surface of the lake ripple in the wind. Not once did I focus on something else or divert my attention away from it. I was completely stunned by its beauty. It was always just there, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Occasionally, during the harshest of storms, the usually calm surface of the water would turn volatile and rough. You would think this would bother me; what with the splendour of the lake being distorted. This was not the case. Tides never affected the lake, so its surface always sat a few feet below me. The storms were the cause of the waves thrashing against my uncovered form. I could now feel every chill, every splash and every drop of water. One single touch of the freezing water was enough to give me an erection.

Luckily, as a willow tree, erections aren't very noticeable.

Our relationship lasted only a couple of months, but the storms during that period were enough to solidify what we had for a lifetime. One storm, in particular, was definitely a sign of our eternal physical attraction to each other, and this was the storm where I lost my virginity. The Erotic Storm of '71, oh how wonderful it was. My bark became harder than ever before, sap poured out of me like a waterfall of passion, and the lake's water filled up orifices I never even knew about. It was the most tantalising, and rather kinky, moment of my life. In fact, we did it thirty-six times.

Unfortunately, it was a record that was never broken. Just days after TES71 (that's what I call the storm these days); I was dug up and taken away from the lake. Although the squat, cheerful looking witch who removed me did it with consideration and care, I felt an intense hatred towards her. She had taken me away from the best sex I had ever had (and to a lesser extent, the only one I had ever loved).

Still relatively small at that age, I was placed inside a ceramic pot and taken inside a large castle. I had seen the castle regularly through my peripherals, but I had never imagined how enormous it was. There were a lot of young people there, who all seemed to stare at me intently as I passed. I must admit, I wasn't fond of the constant attention. I missed the attention I got from the lake, and these little ones just didn't do it for me.

I was taken into a large circular room and was met by an elderly, long bearded wizard, a scruffy young boy, and what looked to be the boy's parents.

"So this is the tree that's going to protect everyone from me? It's a little small, don't you think? We might as well just go home now…"

"Eloquently put, Mr Lupin." The bearded wizard said, "Though we're not quite done with it yet. Don't you worry; it will be perfect for the job. Trust me."

I remember that soon after this I was taken from the circular room to what I can only imagine, was the hospital wing. From here, I went on an adventurous exploration around the castle as I was 'prepared' for the bearded wizard. Although the matron spraying noxious smelling liquid over me and the overweight walrus-like man injecting a potion right into my roots was bad, the worst came from a tiny old wizard wearing ill-fitting robes.

"Who did what in where now?" The tiny wizard questioned alarmingly, as the squat witch told him why I was there.

"It doesn't matter who he is, or what he did, Filius. Dumbledore simply wants this tree fit to guard the passageway."

"Well very." The wizard agreed reluctantly.

This was when things really got bad. After muttering something strange under his breath, my branches became uncontrollable and I remember smacking the little witch who was holding me. I felt pretty bad about this. She had taken me away from the lake, but she was looking after me quite well.

I knew I didn't want to hit her, I just had an urge to thrash about anytime someone got close to me. I didn't want to be like this. Why would they make me hurt those around me? I used to be such a gentle and thoughtful willow, and I wouldn't hurt a fly. Now they have me whomping around like a wild beast. In the end, they had to stun me just to calm me down. They had turned me into a monster.

I remember waking up on the outskirts of the castle, buried in the ground, guarding a nearby hole, and suddenly being a full sized willow. I was now fully 'prepared'. Those potions I had been given must have sped me up to full size. Although the young boy I had seen in the office was always able to get past me, other children had no such luck. Anytime they came near, my branches whipped out at them and nearly knocked them off their feet. Rumours began circulating throughout the castle and they soon started to call me 'The Whomping Willow'.

Words really do hurt. I had never been so upset in my life. To go from being calm and compassionate, to an unpredictable brute, was just too much for me. I struggled with intense depression for years and every day I wanted to kill myself. The only thing which gave me hope was the glistening lake, which I was able to take a small peek at from my position in the grounds. I could still feel how strong our connection was, and I could feel that the lake missed me dearly.

The best thing, though, was that on those windy days, when the water from the lake was picked up by the wind to be splashed onto my branches, I was able to achieve something which perfectly symbolised the undying love between us.

An erection.

* * *

**Written for 'The Wand Wood Competion' (maple) and the '52 Weeks of Writing 2013 Competition'.**

**Prompts used: Hospital Wing, stunned.**

**Optional prompts used:**** Perfect, ****lake, The Whomping Willow, 'Eloquently put, Mr Lupin.'**

**Bonus prompt used:****'Who did what in where now?'**


	9. Puff- Hogwarts Express x Trolley Lady

**Hogwarts Express/Trolley Lady**

* * *

If a little Hufflepuff girl wants a pumpkin pastie, she'll be there.

If an oversized Slytherin boy is in need of a chocolate frog, she'll be there.

If the conductor is itching for a chocolate cauldron cake, she'll be there.

No matter what their age, their gender, or their house, she treats them all with equal kindness.

To me she's a beauty, a gentle soul, a kindred spirit.

But to everyone else, she's just the Elderly Witch who Pushes the Trolley on the Hogwarts Express.

* * *

I first met the Elderly Witch who Pushes the Trolley on the Hogwarts Express when I was my celebrating my 100th birthday. Students and staff, past and present, had gathered on my carriages for an extravagant joyride to Hogwarts castle, and the Elderly Witch who Pushes the Trolley on the Hogwarts Express was one of those lucky guests. Of course, at this point of time, she was still quite young, so she was just known as the Witch who Pushes the Trolley on the Hogwarts Express.

For most of the night I paid little attention to the woman, but after a while, I couldn't take my eyes off her. I noticed that she would occasionally brush her arm on one of my walls, or place a hand on a window. I knew it was a shameless and blatant attempt at flirting, but I was flattered nonetheless. She just couldn't seem to take her hands off me.

Later in the night, when the rest of the guests were cutting the cake in the main corridor, she snuck off into the coal room to have a little fun. One at a time, she threw a shovelling of hot coal into my fire, causing me to let out a puff of smoke each time. Faster and faster she shovelled, speeding up the rate of smoke coming from my body.

I really couldn't hold it in much longer.

It was at the completion of a rather big shovelling of coal, that I finally exploded in an impressive display of happiness. This caused black smoke to fill all of the carriages in quick succession. I broke down not long after that, and the guests had to be escorted off me. Unfortunately, that included the Elderly Witch who Pushes the Trolley on the Hogwarts Express. She left without saying goodbye, with no explanation, and never acknowledged me again. I suspect she was embarrassed.

That party was the only night I'd ever really felt good about myself. A woman, who I was beginning to love, was gone, and I was alone once again.

My heart broke when the party died.

* * *

These days she just walks up and down my corridor, dispensing sweets to the hungry children.

She doesn't touch me. She doesn't talk to me. She doesn't even play with my coal.

To me she's no longer a beauty, a gentle soul, a kindred spirit.

She's just the Elderly Witch who Pushes the Trolley on the Hogwarts Express.

* * *

**Written for the '52 Weeks of Writing 2013 Competition'.**

**Prompt used: Hogwarts Express.**

**Bonus prompt used: ****My heart broke when the party died.**


End file.
